When I realised the other day that I only had three weeks more of living in my suburb, I got a bit nostalgic. Not sad, really – I don’t love the area. Well, that’s not exactly true. I love the neighbourhood, I love the bits of it that I see all the time. But it’s not really near any good shops, there’s nowhere that I spend a lot of time in the area, there’s no one I know around here – not like when I left Birkenhead, I missed the people, the shops, the beach, almost everything about the place.
But I quite like the walk to the bus. It’s just a short one, but I’ve come to know that street and the houses, and it feels like a friend. A companion. I’ve walked down it with a spring in my step, dragging my heels, winging my arms, weighted down with tiredness. In heels and in bare feet (sometimes one right after the other).
So yesterday I brought my camera with me and took some photos. Maybe I’ll start doing YIP again – I stopped when I started doing etsy stuff, because I didn’t have the energy for both. But I miss looking at the world through the lens. And it did make me a better photographer – not that I’m GREAT, or even, I would say, GOOD, but it made me better, and I was taking more photos that I liked.
This is my favourite house on the street. There is an old Italian lady who lives there, and she sits outside on nice evenings. You can see her mustard chair under the palm tree next to the front door. She waves and greets me, although the couple of times I’ve been walking home from work in bare feet, my heels in my hands, she has given me the evil eye. Her sneaky green gate down the side, and her colourful roses, make me smile every single day. I love the way the garden is ordered but not over groomed – I suspect the back yard of being full of fruit trees.
Just for contrast, this is the house next door. The street is like the suburb – a mix of old and new, concrete boxes with manicured lawns (or neglected ones) and old character houses with fruit and roses (or lots of empty beer bottles)
Does this look like a labrador to you? It’s out the front of the house with all the olive trees in the front garden, and the straggly roses down the drive.
I admit that these aren’t to my own taste, but they certainly are well executed.
I was struck the other day by the blue windows against the orange brick. I must have stood looking at them for about a minute. A friendly older couple live here – they’re not often out when I’m around, but sometimes the man is taking in the bins in the morning, or standing on teh lawn (waiting for someone?) in the evening – in which case he always greets me cheerfully.
It’s opposite the road to the house that’s been being renovated for the whole time I’ve lived here – they took down part of the roof, smashed off a cinderblock room, and put the roof back on, among other things. But the men who live there (brothers? couple? flatmates? none of my business?) were inthe yard while I was taking my happy snaps, and I didn’t want to look like a creepy stalker. They have two yippy dogs, but reputable breeds – some sort of wiry terrier effort.
This is probably the worst shot possible of this house. You can’t see the bright turqouise trim, or the vivid roses, or the cactus flowers. I don’t know who lives here – I saw a young woman in office garb taking out the bins once, but the blinds are always down and there’s a big ‘security’ sign up.
I do love their flowering wall of colour, though.
The view towards the main road where my bus comes. Hello, semi-industrial area. The building on the right is a tralier store, and out the back they make laminate cabinets. There’s a bloke with a beat up powder blue truck that works there.
This is the view from my bus stop. I missed out Trio cafe on the corner to the left – an ugly brown building that always has people sitting outside drinking coffee in the morning. I bought some meat from Austria Meat once. They were super friendly. I got food poisoning.
Also from my bus stop. This massive tree is on the grounds of the old folks home, and to the right of this picture is the managed apartments. I helped a lady from there bring her bin in the other day. She had her walking stick with her, and looked ready to whap someone with it.